In January 1981, hubby switched jobs to work for a national company that required his traveling. His national scope employment protected us from the regional economic downturn. There was no swing shift work available for me to help with. When he traveled, I was left alone with kids.
Memories of Edward and even Enrico flashed unexpectedly before me during his absences. I reverted to soapy showers and advanced to remembrances of Edward’s games as I imagined him whispering the words, bored, bored, bored while I stared out the window at the drizzle rain.
I missed the sunshine excitement of two men. The wantonness fever took hold. As the good wife vow effaced, I confessed to Erica my yearnings, the wrong one to tell. She urged me on, to get out of the rain as she explained it.
With "A. T." faltering she asked me to accompany her dancing at a country-western bar when her husband went out of town. I agreed but just for dancing and if hubby was on a business trip too. It wasn’t until early summer both were out of town. Spring, the wettest season, the rain drained the resolve of my vow. With summer's clear sky, the sun visible again, I was ready for a night out.
Erica and I went shopping. Hot pants were in and she bought one which showed cheeks and a slinky see-through blouse so the cowboys could see her bra and front-end assets. I purchased a flair skirt for dance twirling, lacy peasant blouse and 3-inch pumps with a gold bow.
Shopping confirmed I was going out. The clothes revealed my fever's temperature, I was in danger of heatstroke. I murmured as I got ready.
I’m only dancing, I’m only dancing.
I wore red bikini panties, painted my nails bright red and put on deep red lipstick. I put on large gold hoop earrings from belly dancing days and Enrico's trophy ring but kept my wedding ring on.
My first error of judgment for the evening was letting her drive. My last sound judgment decision was checking with the baby sitter my list of do's and don'ts.
When we entered the country-western bar, it was packed with pseudo cowboys and cowgirls. Not bring enthused with country-western music, I reminded myself to limit dancing, to fast music as the limit of my lust. As soon as we sat, cowboys showed up at our table insisting on buying drinks. I ordered gin and tonic and Erica beer.
After two drinks and rejecting those trying to rustle me on to the dance floor, I agreed to a fast dance request with Alabama playing. I then sat out the slow ones until It’s Like We Never Said Goodbye by Crystal Gayle.
He came to our table, was good looking and met other requirements, no cowboy hat, big silver belt buckle, cowboy boots and by smell, didn’t smoke.
On the dance floor, I was shocked to see another married woman I knew. She was dancing sans husband. Seeing me, she came over and told me she never expected to see me there. I didn't like my image questioned and wanted to leave but Erica had someone at the table she was sweet-talking. Seeing the other married woman oddly legitimized my night out. Everyone was obviously doing it.
After our dance, my partner bought another round, my third. After a couple more slow dances with him, Erica took me to the ladies’ room. There she opened her purse and said.
“Honey, here, take this, better safe than sorry.”
She handed me a little box of condoms.
“You’re joking. I don’t need them.”
I put them in my purse as she went back to our table.
After more dancing and another drink, Erica announced we were all going to get coffee. I was relieved, the smoke in the bar was getting to me. As we left, I kept my hands on my elbows so my new acquaintance wouldn’t try to hold my hand.
We all clambered in Erica’s car, her newest conquest in front next to her. My new friend at least had manners. He opened the door for me but slid next to me once I was in. I moved a little closer to my side door. He put his arm around me and tried to kiss but I turned, opened the window and looked out. Instead of driving for coffee Erica drove to a secluded spot she knew and parked without answering my question of where the coffee was. Parked under an old oak tree, she turned around, looked back over the seat, smiled and said.
"Don't do anything nasty."
She turned back and wasted no time doing so.
I let my new friend kiss me while listening to crickets chirping from the open window. He started slow as if it was just kissing. With drinks, my resistance was low. Erica doing it upfront aroused me. He deftly lifted my blouse and bra to get to my breasts as Erica was moving fast forward upfront. I let him kiss my nipples kind of as a delaying action while he thought he was warming me up. I closed my eyes and thought of Gary and his Alviso kissing. I was warming up.
He opened his car door and pulled me down on the seat and lifted my skirt up around my waist, his grip firm.
My legs spread from the seat crevice to the edge, he pulled my panty crotch aside. His clever tongue twirled my clitoris as I looked at the car ceiling. High school lover's lane nights with my fiancé flashed in my mind. Suddenly I knew this would end differently.
I struggled for a comfortable position, clothes twisted around me, semi-open, ankles dangling outside. Technically I was still fully dressed. He hurried his advances; afraid he wouldn't get it if he tarried. Upfront they were rocking the car. He got out, pulled his pants down and tried to enter me.
I pulled Erica’s condom package from my purse.
"No rubber, no honey."
He took hurried moments in the dark to get it on. Ready, with a quick movement forward, he pushed the panty crotch aside and was in me. It was an easy entry, I was wet, wet from waiting for the end of rain and his caresses.
While obviously experienced at back seat intercourse he was not an experienced lover. He was unconcerned about my satisfaction once in. He humped me fast as if delay might jeopardize his climax. It was my first intercourse in a car and with another couple. I could hear them climaxing upfront as they got their thumping rhythm.
Pinioned in the back seat, clothes scrunched around my waist, knees spread up, legs dangling out the open door, feet still in pumps, he thrust in and out. I looked up and saw Erica smiling down over the front seat. She looked like the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland.
I arched up moaning "Now! Now!" and climaxed with her embedded cat image as he ejaculated in a spastic frenzy.
Finished, he pulled out, threw the condom away on the ground, his litter a trophy mark of his successful quest. Erica continued to stare down with her cat smile while I tussled about in the confined space to get my bra, blouse and skirt realigned.
As Erica started the car and backed up, I thought.
Wow, three firsts, screwing in a car, while fully dressed, with someone watching!
She drove back to the bar to drop them off. They talked about their jobs and sports on the way, no longer interested in us. I missed being able to shower.
I heard mine was a plumber that explained his strong grip while trysting. Back at the bar, I gave him a phony phone number and last name as we bid goodbye. All I remember of him is he was good looking, the smell of his aftershave, his hair color and his being a plumber. I don't remember his name or the color of his eyes.
As Erica drove me home, I knew she had in effect seduced me into doing it. I felt dirty and wanted to forget the evening. As soon as the kids were checked up on, the baby sitter paid and gone, I put the clothes in the trash, hid the pumps in the back of the closet and showered.
When hubby returned from his business trip, I knew it best to tell him I went out with Erica to a cowboy bar and saw a woman there who I knew and she was dancing but her husband wasn’t with her. I transferred my transgression on to her. I told him which bar, the name of the woman that cowboys tried to rustle, Erica and I danced but we were home before midnight as I didn’t like the cowboy bar scene, all true. It was a lie of omission in a haystack of truth. It’s best to answer a potential rumor before it reaches the front door.
He took me immediately. In our bed with no contortions or twisted clothes interfering, it was much better than in the car back seat but I did think of Erica watching from the front seat.
Erica bragged about getting “A.T.” to "do it" to those in the “Affairs Circle” ignoring my plea to say nothing. She told them I was cute when arching up moaning "Now! Now!" and changed my nickname from "A. T." to "Now! Now"! a celebrity. I rued the evening and vowed not to repeat it. Country western bar hopping was not my style.
With Erica's blabbing to the “affairs Circle” I distanced myself from them. A bar romp was the kind of anonymous sex they did and my husband once wanted by swinging. Wham bam wasn’t what I wanted.
My vow with God broken, I was free to sin in the rain. Hubby’s "swinging" was limited to pornographic videos, Beta no less. I wanted better, better than being bar meat or a porn flick cameo actress. I wanted a trophy lover. To do so, I’d need to be discreet. The kids noticed everything.
Author Notes: Having cheated at a cowboy bar the wife vows to do it her way.